


the golden hour

by lovesaudade



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Romance, Sexual Content, Slice of Life, dior's a successful model, dodo's a rich artist, squint to see another theme in this story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-14 14:38:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16914747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesaudade/pseuds/lovesaudade
Summary: the moment when sun sits on the fine line of day and night, the 60 minutes of such warm glory, is one of dodo's absolute favorites.





	the golden hour

**Author's Note:**

> it seems that i have a fixation with anything related to gold..... 
> 
> anywAYS this originally had a different plot months ago, but then i stopped midway and never looked back until now (when i scrapped everything to make a new fic lol)
> 
> happy reading and (advanced) happy holidays, my dears!! c:

as an artist, the golden hour is the most sacred time of the day.

the sixty minutes are spent in varying ways: the time to look back and learn from past creations, solace after an exhausting session, or a moment when masterpieces are conceptualized before being brought to life.

but for chae dodo, she only finds herself doing one thing every day during the said hour.

it's the time when she's dressed down from her usual high-profile attires, opting to be in her favorite artist garment: an oversized, cottony shirt. the time when her slender fingers dance along the valley of a woman's breast, a shivering breath lies in its wake. soothing, serene. it's followed by a quiet yet whimsical hum.

to her right, a glass-paned door donned in white and gold details allows the early night breeze fill the room. it leads to a dainty balcony overlooking a vast garden, hyacinths, crocuses, and snowdrops in full bloom. a perfect view of the spring season. far beyond the earthy field, the horizon is painted a harmony of warmth—a stunning gold and small instances of yellows and oranges. 

it's like something out of a painting, one dodo remembers doing for one of her classes back in university three years ago. but now, it's a part of her everything.

the one that completes her everything sits in front her, encased by the length of her legs and the softness of her thighs. dodo's feet are planted firm the cushioned armchair's base to accommodate the comforting warmth to rest on her bosom. silvery strands are nestled on shoulder. dodo's chest moves along with the even breathing of the other, and it momentarily hitches when one of the artist's fingers dips lower, kneading the supple skin uncovered by an unbuttoned polo shirt.

dodo can't help but giggle softly as her two hands continue to perform different tasks: one finding purchase on flawless skin, the other gripping a lead pencil that glides over where her sketchpad is leaning on her thigh, tracing a silhouette. 

it's a tight fit, dodo and her model in one of the artist's expensive but well-loved armchair. but it's cozy and also enough to support both their weights, which isn't much from the two slim women.

"are you finished?" the model whimpers, followed by a whine when dodo's fingertip ghosted over her nipple.

dodo continues her ministrations, unaffected by the subtle hit at her work pace. "if the subject would stop falling asleep, i would've finished earlier." she lowers her face onto the free crevice of the other's neck, running her nose along the slope.

"but you're so slow." the words end breathlessly. dodo isn't sure if it's from their session stretching on or from the way she nibbles and flicks her tongue against the skin.

"suck it up, princess. don't forget that you're still on the clock." and for emphasis, dodo harshly sucks on an available spot before placating it with a swoop of her tongue and a press of her plump lips. she will definitely get an earful from her model's make-up artist. but  _whatever_.

"you just added more work for yourself." the silver-haired model sighs, eyes fluttering close from the chaste worshipping and melting into artist.

dodo starts mirroring the mark on the model's neck onto her work, quick and effortless, before going back to shade the closed lids of her drawing. "still beautiful."

"tell me something i don't know." she chuckles.

"you're getting more and more difficult to work with every day." the artist says without hesitation, earning her a shove at her drawing hand. "hey! you're going to ruin your face!"

the model unevenly blinks her eyes open, a cunning smirk appearing upon her lips. "what happened to me still being beautiful?"

dodo doesn't grant her the satisfaction of a retort. she doubles the effort because to an extent—much to dodo's displeasure—the words still ring true.

lee dior stares right at dodo with the help of a full-length mirror situated opposite of them. the older of the two is wearing the white, billowy top and nothing else. every inch of skin is exposed for dodo to examine and admire, highlighted by the warmth of the ending day. each ray accentuates the curves of dior's breasts while shadows are casted over the intimacy of her womanhood. 

bold, bare,  _beautiful_.

annoyingly so, dodo thinks fondly.

to keep the model conscious, the artist keeps the conversation flowing. "how was your day?"

dior tilts her head side to side in a so-and-so manner. "it was okay. body's kinda sore from working for ten hours today, so be grateful that i squeezed your little session in today."

dodo knows dior would never miss the golden hour. back-to-back runway schedules and countless go-sees wouldn't stop the model from traveling to dodo's home for their sessions. it's part of dior's double charm; she is one of the fiercest, passionate models in the industry, and a cheesy sweetheart behind sharp-tongued retorts to her only lover. she wants to tease dior about it, but for once doesn't. instead, she just presses a kiss to dior's head—a quiet, little thank you—and a promise to give a massage later in the day.

a quick swish on paper for dior's hair is done before dodo speaks up again, not wanting to miss how the golden light makes an iridescent shine on the other's strands. "did you at least get the necklace you asked for?"

"i did!" the model sings, a corner of her reddish lips quirking up. "the swarovski crystal color was wrong though. cyan, not azure. but i'll let that slip on account of you doing something else for me."

the rustling of dodo's pencil fills the short gap of silence before the artist speaks. "oh? and what is it?"

"slip those fingers somewhere else."

the tone is seductive, velvety in dodo's ears. and what her darling princess wants, her darling princess gets.

dodo's long fingers drum lightly on supple skin, fingernails grazing over a pinkish nipple before they start to trail down. dior's breathing changes the lower dodo goes, swirling an abstract pattern by expanse of her smooth torso. with one last chaste peck to dior's temple, dodo's lips drop down to the model's shoulder the moment her fingers land at their final destination in between dior's legs.

dior mixes a sigh of relief and a heady moan. the digits press and move in all the right places, in the most pleasurable sensations. dodo herself is now expelling quick breaths by her ear, alternating between nibbling and licking.

"more, dodo." the silver-haired whimpers.

"wait." dodo whispers back, her drawing hand shaking but ultimately sketching the model's upper body to completion. she starts on the lower half while fulfilling dior's wish, her busy fingers now going at a faster rate.

dior doesn't match the hasty treatment on her. she rolls her hips upward nice and slow, the contrast heightening the build in her lower stomach.

"please. _please_." the model chants. dodo complies with the sensual plea, leaving a particularly harsh bite by her lover's earlobe.

the artist takes dior's nub in between her index and middle fingers, treating it deliciously—a familiar process of loving worship. she almost gets lost in the moment of it all, dior's growing heat pulling her deeper and deeper but stays in a breathless state, lighter than ever. through a half-lid gaze, the artist's eyes bore onto her lover's figure at the mirror and quickens the way she etches dior's lower half: long, unsteady lines for thighs and legs, asymmetrical shading to mimic the results of fingers' work, appearing extra slick and shiny with the setting sun's gleam.

"you are a _vision_." dodo moans by the shell of dior's ear, voice dripping in lust as well. "so gorgeous, ravishing. no one could compare, princess."

a thread of whimpers dances on the model's lips, and a high-pitch whine echoes in the room when dodo enters a finger. the gibberish she expresses next encourages dodo to drive her finger rapidly in her, penetrating another one while her thumb rubs her clit. 

dior holds on to whatever her hands can reach: one of the armrests and the side of her lover's head, treading her fingers through the other's long tresses. the grip surprises dodo bit, making her both jerk her fingers inside dior, and the silver-haired woman gasps at the glorious feeling.

 "again, just like that." dior pants, arching her back when dodo does as such. "yes, god, _dodo_ —"

"perfect, dior. you're _perfect._ "

with one final stroke from dodo, dior basks in litany of moans. dodo moans along with her, eyes trained on her masterpieces on paper and in reality. both more ethereal when the light hits them right  _there._

the artist sprinkles gentle kisses on dior's jawline, helping her come down from such a high until their breaths even out together. a second later, dodo feels her lover's lips on her own. every move is sweet and soft, dusted with the lasting, aurelian rays.

"i'm tired." dior murmurs.

dodo giggles, leaves another lingering kiss to her lover. "i can imagine, baby. stay the night, then. the driver and i can take you to the airport tomorrow morning."

dior blinks for a few moments, and dodo watches the light weave themselves through her naturally curled eyelashes. "you know i can't stay. my manager will actually kill me if i arrive so much a minute after my call time with her."

"i won't let you be late, i promise."

the model lets out her own giggles, leaning further away to look at dodo properly. she quickly appreciates the way dodo's ponytail is now adorably crooked from their activities before saying, "mornings were never your thing, love. remember when you tried to be all 'i'm the best girlfriend ever' by taking me out for a breakfast date last spring?"

dodo remembers, and frankly doesn't want to. it ended up with her shamelessly falling asleep on dior's shoulder just ten minutes after sitting down.

"i swear they put something in my tea that morning." dodo pouts.

"it's settled then, i'm going." dior slowly stands from her seat, stretching her lengthy limbs from staying in a crouched position for so long then starts twirling about for the fun of it while buttoning up her shirt. "better luck next time, dodo."

the artist feels her pout reach peak  _puppy dog sadness,_ but then narrows her eyes the last second. dior's using her baiting voice, and all dodo could think is  _don't fall for it, don't fall for it, don't fall—_

"what's it gonna take for you to stay longer?" she caves, internally acts that the very notion troubles her. 

"a prada bag, a michael cinco garment, and a pure bred samoyed." dior grins, bending down to meet her lover's gaze, hands resting on each arm rest. "exclusively in that order."

the artist releases a burdened breath, however feels anything but. "as you wish, princess."

the silver-haired beauty shows off her pearly whites, leaving dodo blinded just like every other time. "you're the best! you spoil me so, so well." and punctuates the compliment with a loud smack on the other's cheek.

"i'm starting to think you really only want me for my money."

"i mean," dior smirks lightly. "that's how you got me to notice you, right?"

"damn, and i thought you truly fell for me." dodo plays along in a poorly executed telenovela tone of voice, an all too familiar back and forth. "after all this time you've just been using me still. i thought you _loved_ me! this is a tragedy!" she ends with a dramatic hand to her face, peaking through her fingers to see her lover's reaction.

"careful, love." the model winks before she taps the artist's nose. "don't speak as such about me. i am your _only_ model."

"you're hardly my only model. if that's the case, i wouldn't be rich enough to buy every damn thing you whine to me." dodo scoffs, but with a gentle force she tosses her art materials from her lap to the floor before pulling dior to straddle her. the older's unclothed heat exposed wide open against her own naked thighs sparks something in dodo's eyes.

"but i will admit," dodo hikes her lover's thighs closer to hers before standing up with grace. "you are the only one i'd want to spend this hour with, my muse."

the sun finally disappears. the artist's session is brought to a close. but dodo starts on another golden hour with dior, bringing her against the linen sheets of her bed to orchestrate a whole other form of art.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaand HAPPY WEDDING ANNIVERSARY HYUNGHYUK!!! o u o
> 
> kudos, comments, and constructive criticisms are welcomed and appreciated! you may also reach me via twitter: @_kihyunghyuk. thank you!


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